Chapter 99

◆4-11 There are no bad children

The magic item shop was fun, but since there’s nothing else I particularly want to see, I wander aimlessly down the street. It’s like the strolls I took in the capital of Balshain.

Usually, I would boldly stride through places that exude danger, but I want to avoid causing a commotion here. I don’t want to enter any strange back alleys; I’ll just wander around looking for something interesting.

Suddenly, I notice a blacksmith’s shop. From the outside, it seems to specialize in weapons rather than household items.

When you arrive in a new town, the first place to visit is the weapon shop. I almost forgot this basic rule. I want to practice a "careful life" by valuing these small, cumulative actions.

As I ponder the mystery of how the selection of weapons improves as you get closer to the boss, I push open the heavy wooden door.

It’s been a while since I visited a weapon shop. Due to various circumstances, I was banned from all the weapon shops in the capital of Balshain.

“Hello!”

I slip through the thick door into the shop. There’s no one else around, and the shopkeeper isn’t there either.

I look around the shop, but it’s not very impressive. Swords, spears, and armor are displayed, but they are all lightly covered in dust. The selection seems limited, and there are noticeable empty spaces on the shelves and walls.

I wonder if this shop isn’t very popular. Just as I’m thinking this, the shopkeeper comes out from the back.

He’s a large man with a shaved head. Yeah, he looks like a master blacksmith.

He glances at me and says with a frown, “What do you want!? This isn’t a place for women and children!”

“... Did you just say that to me?”

“Who else would be here besides you, miss?”

I remember. The first time I visited a weapon shop, I got a similar reaction. Recently, I’ve only been told things like, “Please go home” or “Don’t ever come back, you destroyer!”

“You were talking to me, right?”

“Yeah! Get home quickly and do some sewing!”

If I were my usual self, I would say, “I can’t sew with such a weak sword,” and the blacksmith would get angry, “My swords aren’t weak!” Then, “It would break if I swung it” and “Prove it” would follow, and I would end up being chased away by a crying blacksmith.

If I follow this usual pattern, I’ll stand out terribly. A young woman with black hair is already dangerous, and adding my ridiculous strength would make me Yumiera. There’s nothing interesting here, so I’ll leave quickly.

“I’m sorry. I came out of curiosity. I didn’t realize this wasn’t a place for me.”

As I bow slightly, he opens his eyes in surprise.

“You... are different.”

“Huh? Is there something wrong with me?”

“Usually, when I yell at someone to get out, they either run away in fear or get angry about being treated like a woman. You’re the first to stay so calm.”

I didn’t expect my polite behavior to backfire. I’m at a loss for words, and he points to a sword with his chin.

“If you’re that calm, you must have the right to handle weapons. Here, try swinging it.”

“... I’ll take you up on that.”

It would be unnatural to refuse, so I nod. I pick up the sword that’s leaning against the wall, lifting it with both hands as if it’s very heavy.

It’s a standard one-handed sword, designed to be used with a shield. It feels very light and fragile.

I glance at him casually, and he’s looking at me seriously.

I have to swing it, don’t I? If I just do a practice swing, my sword skills will be exposed. As I’m thinking about how to explain it, the master bursts out laughing.

“Hahaha! I thought you knew something about swords, but you’re a complete novice. Your movements were like you were hitting with a club. You won’t cut anything with that.”

I have to endure. I know I’m a novice at swordsmanship.

Hitting with a heavy, hard iron bar is strong. I don’t hesitate to say that a sword is like a club. I won’t be emotionally damaged by his laughter. However, I feel a bit irritated, and my grip on the sword tightens slightly.

“Ah!”

The hilt crumples and breaks with a crunch. The blade falls to the floor with a dry sound.

“Whoa!? Are you okay? Did you get hurt?”

“I’m fine. But the product...”

“I’m sorry! Even though it’s a mass-produced item, it was a defective product. But, this kind of break...”

Safe. I thought it would be a clear failure, but it’s not as obvious as I thought.

He takes the broken hilt from me and twists his neck while looking at it.

“Was the iron I forged weak? ...No, that’s impossible. The force was applied to a weak point... No, that’s not it.”

It seems he doesn’t even consider the possibility that I have super strength. I feel guilty.

Despite the sparse selection, the shopkeeper seems very passionate. It’s a bit surprising.

He’s muttering to himself, comparing the broken sword, and he notices that I’m standing there awkwardly.

“I’m sorry. I’m sure you’re surprised. This is the first time for me... My swords aren’t weak... Hmm, maybe my skills have dulled from making mass-produced items? But this was one I made before...”

“I don’t think you should worry. You mean, you’ve been making mass-produced items?”

Thinking it might be related to the poor selection, I ask, and he answers immediately.

“Recently, I’ve been making only official items for the kingdom’s army. Swords, spears, armor, everything. I wonder what they’re planning with all these soldiers.”

“I think it’s good that you have orders from the kingdom.”

“Making standardized items is boring. Because of that, my shop is in this state.”

He looks around the dusty shop.

I see, so that’s the situation. Making mass-produced items, even by a craftsman, must take a lot of time.

“I’m sorry to bother you when you’re so busy.”

“Yeah, be careful on your way back.”

He says this in a deflated voice and looks back at the broken sword.

... I feel bad about leaving like this. He seems like a kind man, and he’s doubting his skills because of me. The sword is strong enough for normal use.

However, I can’t reveal my true identity... But, still, no...

After a moment of hesitation, I decide.

“Hey, what will you do with this?”

“This? I’ll study it thoroughly. We blacksmiths are responsible for the lives of swordsmen. This can’t happen again.”

“There’s no need to study it. It’s a strong sword. It’s just weak for me.”

“What are you saying... That’s dangerous!”

The hilt and blade are separated. As I grab the blade from the floor, he exclaims in surprise.

If he tries to take it from me, he might get hurt. I squeeze it, and it crumples and breaks with a crunch. In other words, I crushed the steel blade with my bare hands.

“That’s why. I think it can cut up to mid-level monsters.”

While the shopkeeper is stunned, I leave the shop quickly.

I rush out, close the thick door gently, and start running.

Well, the legend of the woman who destroys weapon shop items has crossed the border. It sounds good to say that I can’t be confined by borders, but I’m just a troublemaker who doesn’t stay in one place.

Oh, I wasn’t supposed to leave any traces of Yumiera. I didn’t show my hair, so it should be okay.

I walk for a few minutes. This distance should be safe. I pull my hat down lower and resume my sightseeing.

“...Just a normal town.”

It’s really normal. I’m currently in the food market, where vendors selling grains and vegetables line both sides of the street.

It’s peaceful. The impression of the Remrest Kingdom was that it was always attacking Patrick’s hometown, so this feels anticlimactic. But it’s a good thing.

Even though the country is different, the people living there are the same. I feel like I could live more peacefully here than in the Balshain Kingdom. There seems to be less prejudice against black hair here.

If I hadn’t met Patrick at the academy, I would have fled the country. Maybe this could have been my home...

“Noooo! Buy it, buy it!”

A voice like mine from a while ago. Looking over, I see a boy throwing a tantrum in front of a stall.

The stall seems to sell something like water candy. His mother is dragging him away.

“I’m not buying it. Come on, let’s go!”

“No way!”

Is this a common occurrence? The mother has a stern face and is pulling the child’s hand. The boy is resisting with all his might but is being dragged along the ground.

I observe from the side. Finally, the mother loses patience and lets go of his hand.

“I’m leaving you behind!”

The mother walks away. The boy, with teary eyes, grits his teeth and stays in place.

Wow, he’s got some determination. If I were a child, I would rush to catch up with my mother. But I wasn’t the type to throw tantrums. The first time I did was a few months ago in front of Patrick.

...Am I gradually becoming childish? No way, right?

As I watch the mother and child anxiously, the mother turns back. Of course, she wouldn’t really leave him behind.

Will she give in and buy the candy? Or drag him away again?

What’s the right approach educationally? I might be in a similar situation someday... I’ll be the mother. How would a senior mom handle it?

“Be a good boy, or Yumiera will come.”

“Yumiera, nooooo!”

The boy cries out even louder, louder than before. He runs to his mother with all his might.

“Yumiera won’t come? Yumiera won’t come, right?”

“If you’re a good boy, Yumiera won’t come.”

The boy sniffles and buries his face in his mother’s skirt.

Yumiera, you’ve come this far.

As I watch the mother and child walk away hand in hand, I realize that my idea of living peacefully here was naive.

I am Yumiera Dorkness! I’m treated like a Namahage in the neighboring country!

...Sigh, I’ll go back.

Feeling thoroughly dejected, I return to my temporary lodging for a few days.